Catfight
by Emper0rH0rde
Summary: My own version of Michelle McCool's violent heel turn at the end of 2008, and how Maria and Eve fighting back not-so-gradually turns into a bloody, and deeply personal conflict. PG-13 for violence
1. A Vicious Betrayal

Officiating was never one of Maria's strongest points. In fact, until about a year and a half ago, wrestling hadn't been a strong point. Up until she'd broken up with Santino Marella, about the only thing she was good at was, well, nothing. Except maybe looking cute. But she didn't exactly need any kind of talent to look cute, to be honest. She simply was.

Dumping Santino had definitely been the best decision Maria ever made in her WWE career. Once he was out of her life forever, she finally got the chance to really learn how to wrestle, and despite having done a much-talked-about photoshoot for Playboy magazine – the main thing that led to her leaving her boot print on Santino's egotistical ass – she quickly discovered that she was much better suited in the ring, rather than in front of a camera with little or nothing on. Heck, she was the first Diva to defeat the brawny and intimidating Beth Phoenix by pinfall. That had to say something significant.

In spite of all that, she hadn't particularly mastered the art of officiating a wrestling match, which was one of the reasons why she had expressed reluctance when SmackDown's general manager Vickie Guerrero appointed her to be the special guest referee for the WWE Divas Championship match between her close friend Michelle McCool – the defending champion – and the challenger, Maryse Ouellet, a rather conceited, bleach-blonde twenty-five-year-old from Montreal. Of course, it didn't matter where Maryse was from, least of all what color her hair was (half the WWE's Divas, past and present, were blonde anyway). The main problem was with Michelle, who had lately been unhappy with the way things were going for her over the past couple months. The problem itself was that these things were putting Michelle at odds with Maria.

In late October, during a tag team match, Maria was too distracted by her giant, silent admirer, Festus and a mariachi band, for Michelle to tag her in, and that fiasco ended up costing them both the match. Initially Michelle was pretty cheesed off, but, being the sweetheart that she was, she let it slide, as it was not entirely Maria's fault. Nothing else happened between them for a while.

But then about a month later at Survivor Series, Maria accidently caused Michelle to be eliminated from the SmackDown Divas team – of which Michelle was the team captain – and a small, and subtle, but noticeable change came over the Divas Champion. While she still smiled a lot, and was generally friendly and cheerful, a lot of women in the locker room were starting to get the feeling that it seemed a little forced, because something about Michelle's manner seemed a little... off. No one could put their finger on it, but something was unquestionably wrong.

At the beginning of December, Maria defeated her in a singles match on SmackDown, and later on that night, Michelle, irate over the loss, retaliated by kicking her in the stomach backstage. Just a few weeks after that, during an 8-Diva tag match at Armageddon 2008, she tagged herself in just as Maria was starting to build momentum and stole the winning pin for herself. Tension hung over their four year friendship like a slowly darkening raincloud, but Maria was darned if she was going to let this little thing ruin it all. They'd had much worse times over the past four years, and there was no reason for Michelle's behavior to not simply run its course and blow over. There was one time when neither of them spoke to one another for nearly a month, but later they made up. This was no different.

With newfound self-assurance, Maria took off her regular street clothes, and pulled on a referee outfit custom-made especially for her. While yes, it was true that she hadn't _mastered_ the art of refereeing a wrestling match, it was _not_ true that she didn't know how to officiate. The rules were simple, and relatively easy to enforce. She could do this.

"Hey Maria," a voice behind her called. Maria turned to look.

It was Michelle, already in her wrestling gear, with her title belt in hand.

"Hi Michelle, what's up?" Maria answered, smiling at her friend.

Michelle smiled back, but she was clearly thinking about something else, and she appeared to be trying to avoid eye contact without actually looking like she was trying to avoid eye contact. Something, it seemed, was bothering her.

"You know, Maria, we've been friends for a long time," Michelle began.

"For four years," Maria replied, nodding.

"Yeah, that's right. And I know we've had some issues in the past." Michelle sounded almost contrite as she spoke, and Maria dared to hope that she was finally starting to move on from the recent happenings between the two of them. "But I want to make sure they stay in the past where they belong. I'd also like to mention that nobody wants to see that chesty little trollop Maryse as Divas Champion." Michelle paused, realizing she'd used a double entendre. "Um, pun not intended."

"Well, Michelle, I would have to disagree that no one here wants to see Maryse as Champion," Maria had to say. "Because we are in Canada, and she happens to be a native of Quebec. I mean, you know how a lot of Canadian fans are, they'll cheer people like that bitter Chris Jericho, just because he's from the same country as them.

"I agree that Maryse is ultra-narcissistic, but that won't stop this entire arena from getting behind her."

Michelle's expression darkened, and Maria had a sinking feeling that she may have gotten her hopes up too soon.

"As I was saying, before you interrupted me," Michelle continued, sounding a little peeved, "Maryse doesn't deserve this title, whether these apparently biased people like it or not."

"Michelle," Maria looked into the taller woman's eyes and spoke calmly, "you know I can't help you win your match tonight. It's not a handicap match, I was appointed as the special guest referee. I'll be honest with you. I'm gonna out there, and call the match down the middle. If either one of you goes for a pin, it's my job to try to make a three count. If either of you gets your shoulders up before then, it's my job to stop the count. If either one of you starts breaking the rules, it doesn't matter which, it's my job to admonish whichever one of you who does. We both know I'd love to see you retain tonight, but you do understand that I have to be impartial."

Michelle smiled and shook her head, gesturing that Maria didn't need to keep talking. "Oh no, I wasn't saying that I'm looking for any kind of special treatment. I mean, if I won with the referee's help, how would that make me look?"

For the first time in several weeks, both women smiled genuinely at each other. But just as quickly as it appeared, Michelle's smile disappeared, as did Maria's.

"Although I'm warning you, Maria," Michelle said in a stern voice as she slung her title belt over her shoulder, "don't screw this up. You've messed up a lot of things for me recently, and frankly I'm getting tired of it. But if tonight goes well, I promise I'll forget it all. So please don't mess anything up tonight, okay? Trust me, I'd advise against it."

There was a trace of warning in Michelle's last sentence, but Maria simply smiled.

"Trust _me_, Michelle," she said. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

The smile found its way back to Michelle's face as she affectionately rested her hands on Maria's shoulders.

"That's what I wanna hear, sweet face. I'll see you out there."

* * *

"_Here she comes again like good medicine. Every step she takes my blood is flowing. Her legs go on and on for days..._"

The Canadian crowd popped the instant Maria's theme music started playing over the sound system, and the reaction quickly turned into cheers when the beautiful redhead herself flounced out onto the stage and down the ramp toward the ring in her custom-made referee attire.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, your special guest referee, Maria!" SmackDown's young ring announcer, Justin Roberts' introduction was merely a formality; everyone knew who Maria was.

And this was something Maria could never get used to; indeed, she didn't wish to. She never wanted an arena full of people cheering for her to become business-as-usual. As far as she was concerned, it was an experience that couldn't be duplicated, thus every time it was special.

She slid into the ring, and quickly climbed up onto the turnbuckles, posing and blowing kisses to the crowd, who cheered, waved, took pictures, and blew kisses back. The sheer adoration this crowd was raining on her made her want to do a frog splash into the audience and love them back even more. Of course she'd never be allowed to do such a thing, but hey, a girl can dream, right?

Her mind quickly returned to business as her theme music faded out, and the timekeeper at ringside rang the bell twice.

"This contest set for one fall is for the WWE Divas Championship!" Justin Roberts didn't have to add any enthusiasm to his voice while making that announcement; any time he got to announce a match that involved Divas was a good day at the office for him. And the Canadian crowd didn't have to force any cheers out of themselves either; they were pulling for Maryse, the self-proclaimed 'sexiest of the sexy,' a moniker which actually once made soda shoot out of Maria's nose because she laughed so hard. Not that Maryse wasn't 'sexy' to look at, but she was so conceited – and thus, _not_ sexy as a person – it was sometimes funny, almost cute. With emphasis on 'almost.'

_"...You're not enough for me... Ohhhh no, no. Just another man in love with me. Just another man... Ohhh... Gotta open up your eyes and see. hey, hey oh well... You're not enough for me. oh no..."_ The champion Michelle McCool's music started playing next, and while she didn't receive quite as enthusiastic a crowd reaction as Maria did, a lot of the fans seated along the ramp crowded the barricade, either reaching out, or taking pictures, or simply waving at the spirited and energetic Divas Champion. Michelle, herself, meanwhile, brushed hands with, and smiled for as many fans as she could before entering the ring, where she climbed onto the turnbuckles and held her young title up high, amid another lightning storm of camera flashes.

Maryse's music hit, and, being Canadian, she got the biggest reaction by far. While it wasn't as if The Undertaker, or Triple H, or even Edge were making their way to the ring – three men who were destined to be in the WWE Hall of Fame some day – it was a huge pop for a Diva nevertheless. It was ironic, though, that the loudest cheers were for the competitor who deserved it the least.

Maryse was quite possibly the snootiest, most self-absorbed individual in the entire SmackDown women's locker room, and maybe even the entire WWE. Raw's Beth Phoenix was a jerk and a bully – and Maria was very happy to no longer be on the same brand as her – but she was not full of herself. The thing about the Glamazon was that, whether you liked her or not, she was the real deal; Beth didn't need to show off, because she already knew everyone else knew how powerful and skilled she was. Maryse, on the other hand, was... well... Michelle was right in that this butter-headed skank didn't deserve to be champion.

But as much as Maria hoped her friend would win, she still remembered that she had to call the match fairly. Hopefully tonight would go well, and the next title match would be called by someone other than her.

"Introducing first, the challenger," came Justin Roberts' voice over the mic, "from Montreal, Quebec... Maryse!"

The crowd cheered for her, but instead of waving to them or anything like that, Maryse simply grinned smugly, tossed her white-blonde hair and struck an arrogant 'look-at-me' pose.

"And from Palatka, Florida, she is the WWE Divas Champion... Michelle McCool!"

As expected, there were some boos, but Michelle nonetheless held her title high and smiled to the fans who were cheering her, before handing the belt to Maria and focusing her attention on her challenger.

Maria quickly frisked them both, a standard procedure to make sure neither wrestler had smuggled any foreign objects into the ring, and when she didn't find anything she held the Divas title belt up to signify that it was at stake, in case someone was just tuning in on TV at home. After she handed the belt to a ringside technician, she motioned to Michelle on her right.

"You ready?" she asked.

Michelle nodded. "Let's go!"

"You ready?" Maria asked Maryse.

"_Oui._"

"Here we go, then!" Maria said before signaling the timekeeper, "Ring the bell!"

The instant after the bell rang, the two women immediately locked up, each competitor trying to out-muscle the other until Michelle applied a side headlock on Maryse.

Maria espied Maryse's hand snaking up and grabbing a handful of Michelle's hair, and yanking down, wrenching the taller woman's head back, and causing her to grunt in pain.

"Hands off the hair!" Maria admonished her, but the French-Canadian ignored her. "Off her hair! One! Two! Three!" Maryse relinquished her grip before Maria reached a count of five. She knew if Maria had gotten to five, and if she were still jerking on Michelle's hair, she'd be disqualified and the match would be over. With a burst of sudden energy, Maryse powered out of the headlock, and sent Michelle into the ropes.

Using the momentum, Michelle propelled herself off the ropes and laid Maryse out with a shoulder block, and promptly got booed. Paying no attention to this, Michelle hit a leg drop on Maryse and went for an early cover.

Maria quickly checked to make sure both Maryse's shoulders were on the mat before bringing her hand down to the mat in attempt to make a three count. "One!" But Maryse kicked out with authority before Maria could even get to two. There was no way she was going down this early, especially in her home country.

Wasting little time getting to her feet, Michelle pulled Maryse up by her head, grabbed her wrist and wrenched the entire arm, twisting it to an unnatural position and systematically yanking it, threatening to dislocate her shoulder. The French-Canadian Diva attempted to counter the hold by hitting a back heel trip on the Champion, but Michelle held on, kicked up off the mat, and wrenched the arm once again.

Maryse grunted in pain, but kept her focus, and hit her opponent under the shoulder with a swift, sudden kick, breaking Michelle's hold on her wrist. And before the taller woman could recover, Maryse was already wrenching and jerking her arm.

Instinctively, Michelle landed a blow directly on her adversary's cheekbone, walked over to the corner of the ring, got up on the second turnbuckle, backflipped and landed on her feet, reversing the pressure, and threw Maryse across the ring with a powerful arm drag.

More boos droned forth from the Canadian crowd, which didn't surprise Maria one bit, but it kind of annoyed her all the same. She was fine with them cheering a fellow Canadian, but why go to the trouble of booing Michelle McCool, who was actually a decent person? It didn't matter, though. Certainly not now, in the middle of a match that she happened to be officiating. The crowd needed to be the last thing on her mind at the moment.

"What d'you say, Maryse, have you had enough?" Maria asked Maryse.

The haughty Diva snapped a reply in rapid French, and got back to her feet.

Michelle, who had been waiting at the other side of the ring, charged, attempting to clothesline her challenger. But Maryse was ready for her, and countered, looking for a crucifix pin. Just as quickly, Michelle countered Maryse's counter and swung her around, hit a Russian leg sweep and went for a second cover.

"One!" Again, Maria only managed to pound the mat once before Maryse kicked out of the pin attempt.

Michelle was once again the first to get to her feet. She took Maryse by the hair and pulled her up until she was standing, clocked her with a hard uppercut, and kicked her in the abdomen, before sending her into the ropes.

As Maryse bounced off the other side of the ring, Michelle bent over and lowered her head, allowing the other blonde to attempt a sunset flip pin. But before Maria could even make a one-count, and in the span of two seconds, Michelle had already rolled out of the pin attempt, and hit a low dropkick to Maryse's face.

She quickly went for a cover.

Maria started the count once again, pounding the mat. "One! Two!" And Maryse kicked out. "Two!"

Michelle backed away as Maryse took her time standing up. She seemed loopy after being booted squarely in the face, which did not surprise the Champion one bit. Intent on inflicting more damage on her opponent, Michelle approached the French-Canadian who had gotten to her knees, but before she could lay a finger on her, Maryse – who had been playing 'possum – struck like lightning, hitting a drop toe-hold on her, and sending her crashing face first into the bottom turnbuckle.

With the Toronto crowd behind her 100%, Maryse got to her feet and grabbed the top rope to give herself extra leverage as she stomped and kicked at a momentarily stunned Champion.

"Get off the ropes and get her out of the corner!" Maria yelled, trying to pull Maryse away from her friend. The Diva with the home-field advantage ignored her and whacked Michelle in the head with her forearms. "I'm gonna start counting! Here we go, one! Two! Three! Four!"

Maryse raised her hands and backed off before Maria reached a count of five, at which she would disqualify Maryse for excessive aggression. The Quebec native sneered and talked some French smack at Maria, and landed a few more blows on Michelle in the corner before pulling her to her feet, Irish-whipping her into the ropes and delivering a dropkick to the face of the Divas Champion, as the Canadian fans cheered her.

Maryse haughty tossed her hair and went for her first cover of the match.

"One! Two!"

Michelle instinctively kicked out and the crowd booed, but Maryse stayed on the offensive, landing a few kicks and stomps to Michelle's spine before locking in a seated rear chin lock, her signature submission maneuver. It was not the most painful of holds, but it often did quite a number on many a Diva's spine, which commonly resulted in a visit to the chiropractor.

Maryse grinned snootily as Michelle struggled vainly to power out of the hold.

"Ask her!" Maryse crowed, as she jerked Michelle's neck back, furthering her attempts to make her submit. "Ask her!"

"What do you say, Michelle? You wanna quit?" Maria asked her friend, and the word "quit" seemed to reinvigorate the Divas Champion, as her eyes suddenly grew fiery and she began to power out of the submission hold.

"I _never_ quit!" Michelle responded with authority, and grabbed herself some leverage by managing to fold her legs underneath her to the point where she could stand up on her knees. Maryse's chin lock was still engaged, though, yanking Michelle's neck to the point where all she could see was the ceiling of the arena. And Maryse didn't know it, but the Champion had regained control of the situation. Michelle drove a sharp elbow into Maryse's taut abdominal region, which temporarily threw her off balance, and gave Michelle all the time she needed to grab Maryse around the neck and snapmare her onto the mat.

Maryse quickly rolled away and got to her feet before Michelle could go for a pin. She charged, but was met with a stiff boot to her face, and fell down hard, stars already flickering before her eyes. She felt Michelle hooking her leg as she went for a cover, and was barely aware of Maria pounding the mat as she counted.

"One! Two!" And, purely by instinct, she kicked out at two and a half, thus saving the matchup and her title opportunity. She started to get to her knees, but only got that far before Michelle's hard elbow clocked her in the cheekbone, and the Champion lashed out with a python-like leg, connecting another powerful kick to Maryse's visage.

Michelle bounced off the ring ropes to give herself additional momentum as she went for another kick to her opponent's face, but was caught by surprise when Maryse – in the span of a second – leapt to her feet, and struck with her entire arm, landing a blow in Michelle's collarbone and throat area with a vicious clothesline that nearly took her head off. The force of the impact swept Michelle's long legs from underneath her, and sent them flying into the air, as she crashed shoulders-first down onto the mat.

Maryse stood over the Champion, spat a few words in French, and arrogantly flipped her white-blonde hair. Neither Michelle, nor Maria understood a word she was saying, but they could however tell she was talking smack judging from her mocking tone of voice. She snootily strutted about the ring, and flipped her hair before attempting an elbow drop to Michelle's heart which missed when the Champion rolled out of the way at the last second.

Still on their hands and knees, they grappled and thrashed each other, both of them trying to outmuscle and gain the advantage over the other as they slowly made their way to their feet in mid-combat.

Michelle took the high ground, and violently thrust her forearm underneath Maryse's chin, causing the challenger's head to snap back, the force of the blow nearly knocking her flat on her back. Not wasting a second, Michelle grabbed Maryse by the wrist and whipped her into the ropes, and in the same instant the Canadian Diva bounced off the ropes, Michelle leaped into the air, brought up her long powerful legs, and sent the soles of her boots smashing into the surgically augmented chest of Maryse with a thunderous dropkick. Maryse toppled like a ninepin.

But just as soon as she went down, she was already back up. Michelle knocked her down with a clothesline. In one second, Maryse was on her feet, in two, she was hit with another dropkick, and in three she was again lying face up on the mat.

Frustration began to build in Michelle, as Maryse was getting up for the third time in a row.

_What do I have to do to keep this Barbie-doll down?!_ Michelle wanted to snarl through her teeth, while Maryse had gotten to her hands and knees. _I am going to win this match if it's the last thing I do._

Michelle wasn't the only one eager for the match to be over; Maria was quite ready to make a three count herself. Preferrably one for her friend, but a three count all the same. And while she was grateful that both ladies spent most of the match abiding by the rules – cutting down on the need for her to get in the middle of things – Maria had no plans on officiating many more title matches. Occasional singles or tag team matches she could deal with, but there was something daunting about officiating a title match that she wasn't particularly fond of. It was either that, or she would have just preferred to be participating in the match itself rather than enforcing the rules in a zebra-striped shirt.

Michelle bounced off the ropes, and – with lightning speed – somersaulted while simultaneously grabbing Maryse by the neck in midair. The force of Michelle's momentum was enough to flip Maryse's entire body over, and she was slammed to the mat for the third time.

Maria saw a smile on Michelle's face, and wanted to share it, but couldn't as long as the match continued. They shared the same feeling, though; they both sensed that a pinfall was only three seconds away.

Michelle went for the cover and hooked a leg which looked completely limp. This was it.

Maria struggled to contain herself as she went to start counting. Maryse lay totally motionless after that sick flipping neckbreaker from Michelle, who had immediately gone for a cover, and it only took three seconds to count a pinfall. Three seconds! This had to be it right here!

"One!"

Maryse didn't move.

"Two!"

Maryse still didn't move. This was it! Michelle was going to retain!

"Th--" Out of nowhere, Maryse's shoulder shot off the mat at exactly two and three quarters, and Maria thought she would throw up. Maryse's shoulder was up, and the match had to continue.

"Two and a half!"

"WHAT?!" Michelle was incensed, her hands clutching the sides of her head in utter disbelief. She went for another cover, but Maryse grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her down into an inside cradle pin attempt, and Maria had no choice but to count.

"One! Two!" Michelle managed to kick out, still livid. But, as she stood up, her eyes were not set on Maryse, but rather, on Maria.

"What were you doing counting so _slowly?!_" Michelle demanded, "That was supposed to be a three count!"

Since they were still in the middle of a match – without any time to really talk – Maria could only defend her decision by pulling rank.

"She got her shoulder up at two and a half!" Maria insisted, "It was not a three count!"

"_What is the MATTER with you!_" Michelle was yelling now. "By all rights, this match should be over right now, I swear!"

Maria felt her heart sink when she noticed something Michelle didn't. Maryse was standing right behind the Champion, waiting to strike, and since Maria was the referee, she couldn't warn her friend and be impartial at the same time. There was nothing for her to do except--

Michelle started to turn around when it happened.

Maryse's boot cracked her right where her jaw met her skull; her eyes rolled back into her head, and she tumbled to the mat, like an android that had just been deactivated, and lay very still. It was a distinct possibility that Michelle was out cold. All because she spent more time arguing with the referee than concentrating on her opponent like she should have been.

_Not like this_, Maria thought. _Not this way._ She watched helplessly as Maryse went for the cover, sitting on Michelle's chest and hooking both legs.

Maria didn't want to, but she had to do it. Didn't have a choice. She started counting.

"One!"

Michelle was still unmoving. _Come on, Michelle!_ Maria thought, desperately.

"Two!"

_Please, Michelle! Just kick out! If Maryse kicked out of your neckbreaker, you can kick out of this! Please kick out! Please!_

"Three!"

That was it. The match was over. Michelle had lost.

Maria felt numb as she signaled the timekeeper to ring the bell. She didn't even hear Justin Roberts announcing the winner, or Maryse's music start to play. Barely aware was she of what appeared to actually be genuine elation on the French-Canadian Diva's face as she ran to the timekeeper's table to grab the title belt, and the fans' cheering wasn't even registering with her.

Everything was eclipsed by one crushing realization.

Michelle's inaugural Divas Championship reign was over. The worst part of it was that she had inadvertently cost herself the match, _and_ the title.

The former champion herself, by this time, managed to pull herself up into a sitting position, and she sat, stunned, silent, with a look of pure shock on her face. She seemed unable to move or speak.

Maria stepped over to her defeated friend, and held out her hand, offering to help her to her feet.

"I'm so sorry, Michelle," she said, guilty. "I had no choice. I'm so sorry."

Michelle stared blankly up at Maria, and glanced at her outstretched hand, as if it were an odd growth from an otherwise common plant.

Slowly, hesitantly, Michelle reached up and took Maria's hand, and she stood up and the two friends embraced as the crowd applauded them.

And while Maria was disappointed that Michelle did not retain, she was grateful that Michelle remained her friend despite what transpired during the match.

"I want to go home," Michelle said quietly in Maria's ear, sounding lost and distraught.

"Okay, Michelle," Maria said in a tone of voice a mother might use to comfort a sick child, "tomorrow we'll check out of our hotel, I'll drive us to the airport, and we'll take the first flight to Tallahassee, how does that sound?"

"That sounds great." Michelle spoke barely above a whisper.

"Now why don't we go back to the locker room and get changed for now, and once the show is over, we can head back to the hotel, and order some nice expensive room service. I'll buy."

"Okay."

Maria let go and turned to leave. She only got three steps before something hard – something that felt like a dropkick – hit her between the shoulder blades like a battering ram, and bowled her off her feet, sending her to the mat as the crowd gasped in shock and dismay. Before she realized what was happening, she felt a pair of hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair and slamming her face onto the mat, again and again and again, smashing her harder and faster each time.

The hands let go, and whoever it was seemed to back off for the moment. Maria rolled onto her side, and looked up just in time to see Michelle McCool charging at her with hate in her eyes, and winding up for what looked like a punt.

Michelle delivered a sickening kick to Maria's ribcage, with enough strength to send a ball to the other side of a professional-sized field. The impact from the blow seemed to reverberate through her entire body, lighting every bone on fire, and racking her with pain from head to toe.

Michelle cruelly stomped Maria's now very vulnerable body into a broken, trembling heap, snarling through clenched teeth while she backed away to the other side of the ring, lining up for another devastating kick to Maria's already brutalized anatomy.

Maria clutched her injured ribs and began to cry brokenheartedly. Michelle McCool – her best friend in the world – had turned on her in the worst possibly way. In an instant, she'd become sadistic and evil.

Still writhing in pain, Maria rolled onto her other side and was able look into Michelle's eyes, and what she saw there – cold-blooded abhorrence of _her_ – made her want to scream, and scream, and scream, and scream with grief.

To Maria, it was as if Michelle had been swiftly, but brutally murdered right before her very eyes, and replaced with a loathsome, inhumane, vengeful doppelganger whose sole purpose was to physically and emotionally hurt her in every way imaginable.

Maria was too heartbroken to even move.

Michelle charged again at Maria who lay helpless at the other side of the ring, wound all the way up, and kicked her across the side of her head, as hard as she could, ignoring the heat the enraged Canadian crowd was giving her.

The ringing in Maria's ears was deafening, following the kick to her skull. She was barely able to register any other form of sound – in a packed-out arena full of vocal WWE fans, she could only scarcely detect the sound of the crowd voicing their newfound displeasure toward the half-crazed, out-of-control woman in the ring who, until less than ninety seconds ago, was Maria's greatest friend, of either gender.

Before tonight, Michelle was a truly beautiful woman; kind, sweet, generous, humble, enthusiastic, lively, charismatic, and considered by nearly everyone in her life to be an absolute blessing to know personally. She held such graceful control over herself, she never raised her voice, never even snapped when she was angry.

This was such a disturbing, and horrifyingly rapid transformation it was as though she had been born evil. As though she had never spoken a kind word, or showed any display of humanity in her life.

Her eyes betrayed no emotion but hate, and her face was contorted with rage, as she planted her right boot on the back of Maria's neck and grabbed her by the hair. Then, with a sudden burst of demonic strength, she crunched her foot onto Maria's neck, while cruelly pulling up on her red mane with both hands.

"Stop!" Maria managed to shriek, between her cries of torment. "Please stop!"

"SHUT UP!" Michelle snarled, tugging and stomping extra hard, which made Maria cry and plead even louder. "SHUT UP!"

Michelle removed her foot from the back of Maria's neck, and, still holding her by the hair, yanked her all the way to her feet and hurled her through the ropes to the ringside area.

All Maria wanted to do at this point was get away, but it was everything she could do to get on her hands and knees, and crawl only a few feet, before Michelle grabbed her beneath the shoulders, hauled her up and rammed her head-first into the barricade.

"THIS IS NO MORE THAN YOU DESERVE!" she heard Michelle roar in a voice that hardly even sounded human, and was barely aware of the sound of feet running toward her, before she felt Michelle's knee crack her in the temple, practically crushing her skull against the barricade.

Michelle had literally beaten Maria senseless, but was still not done with her, as she pulled Maria up by her hair yet again, and hurled her shoulder-first into the steel ring post.

Maria's body fell to the floor and lay in a beaten, brutalized, utterly destroyed heap of flesh and hair.

For a few moments, Michelle stood there and stared at her handiwork, with a crazed look on her face, while the sellout crowd thundered their emphatic rage towards her, though there were many people who stood wide-eyed, and open-mouthed in shock and disbelief. Ignoring the fans, Michelle started to slowly, coldly walk to the back, like a killer leaving a freshly made murder scene.

She had gotten halfway up the ramp, when she noticed on the TitanTron, that Maria had moved. Half-conscious, she was feebly attempting to roll onto her back, but not succeeding.

It didn't matter to Michelle. She spun around and started back to the ringside area where she fiercely grabbed Maria by her hair and left arm, pulled her up, and flung her into the ring. But instead of following her, she stormed over to the timekeeper's table and seized two folding chairs which had quickly been vacated as soon as their occupants noticed the rampaging woman approaching them.

_Why won't she just stop?_ Maria wanted to sob as she lay helpless in the middle of the ring, in which, less than three minutes ago, she was officiating an excellent, physical and competitive Divas match. _She's my best friend, why won't she stop? What's happened to her?_

Getting up and running for her life was something that she could have done earlier, but was too dumbfounded, and brokenhearted to even try. It was much too late now. She felt her head being briefly picked up by the hair, and dropped back down to the—on a steel chair which had been slid under her head.

Maria suddenly became very afraid, because she now knew what was about to happen to her – something which sometimes put six foot, two hundred fifty pound men out of action for weeks. She was only five and a half feet tall, and a hundred and ten pounds lighter than most male wrestlers. It would be a miracle if she remembered her own name. She would be lucky if she didn't end up in a coma.

Michelle was setting her up for a con-chair-to.

_No. Please no. Don't do this, Michelle. Think about what you're doing. I may have to relearn how to walk and talk if you do this. There'll be no turning back for you if you do this. Our respective lives will never be the same if you do this. I'm begging you, Michelle! Don't do anything you're going to regret!_

Michelle held the chair over Maria's temple and tapped it against her bruised head a couple of times, cruelly teasing her.

The chair was lifted up, and there was nothing Maria could do about it. She was simply too weak to move.

_PLEASE DON'T DO IT!_

The chair came crashing down onto Maria's defenseless skull, and her head felt as though it had cracked open like a coconut. Her vision swam through a shapeless void of flashing lights and explosions, and her now-scrambled brain throbbed with a stabbing, agonizing pain as she began to lose sense of time.

She was unsure of exactly when Michelle finally took her remorseless leave, and when the referees and trainers arrived.

The last thing Maria remembered before her world plunged into swirling blackness was resting in the arms of Eve Torres, another close friend of hers, while she sobbed and shrieked for the EMTs.

* * *

The whole world was a blur; full of voices shouting things she couldn't understand. Visions swam in front of her eyes, and she couldn't tell whether she was dreaming or slipping in and out of consciousness. She tried to shake herself awake, and in the same instant, the voices suddenly grew louder and more concerned. Fear nearly overcame her when she felt hands from more than one person hold down on the upper part of her body, and she blindly reached out and grabbed at thin air with her hands, unable to see her possible tormentors.

But then, amidst the swirling vortex of chaotic sound, a familiar voice rang out.

"Everyone be quiet! One voice at a time!" Yes, that voice sounded very familiar. She knew that she knew who it was, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. "Maria, can you hear me? It's your friend Eve. Just lie still, you're safe. You were hit in the head with a chair, which is why you're a little loopy right now. You're on a stretcher, and you're being loaded into an ambulance which is going to take you to the hospital. Just lie still, I'll be right next to you the whole time."

"Michelle." The name slipped almost involuntarily from Maria's lips. She couldn't remember if it had positive or negative associations with her. It was all still too indistinct.

"Yes, Michelle attacked you," the voice – Eve – replied. The sound of her voice was so soothing. "But she's gone now, and we're taking you to a safe place where she can't hurt you any more. I'll never leave your side until you're all right, I promise.

"Okay, guys, let's get her in."

Maria's head was still afire with blinding pain, but after hearing Eve's voice, she felt comforted, and this time she welcomed the darkness as it overtook her again.


	2. A Stranger In the Night

Maria's eyes flickered open, and quickly closed again. A fluorescent light panel glowed on the ceiling directly above her, something that she found quite confusing. She certainly didn't remember there being fluorescent lights in her hotel room – especially not a five-star hotel like the one she was staying in. So why was there one now, all of a sudden?

Again she opened her eyes, and squinted, allowing her pupils to become fully accustomed to the cold light. It was when she began to turn her head and look around the room when she realized she was not in her hotel suite, nor was she wearing her favorite maroon-colored velvet negligee.

She was almost did a double take as she discovered that she was lying in a hospital bed, dressed in a sky blue hospital gown. But what on earth was she doing here?

"I think she's waking up," a male voice from across the room remarked.

Maria snapped her head in the direction the voice was coming from. A few feet away from her, along the wall with a shaded window in it, a man and a young woman sat chairs next to each other, both of them staring at her with startled expressions. She recognized them, and though she was very close to being able to, she could not _quite_ place them just yet.

"Who—?" Maria started to ask, when everything suddenly started coming back to her. SmackDown was in Toronto, and she was the special guest referee for the Divas title match between Michelle McCool and Maryse. She and Michelle had a short conversation before the match, and the match itself did not end favorably, as Maryse superkicked Michelle while she was distracted and pinned her for the win and the young Divas title. That gave way to the lowest point in all the twenty-six years of Maria's life: her friend Michelle's furious betrayal. And the con-chair-to which almost shattered her cranium. Now she was in the hospital as a result.

Maria now fully recognized the two visitors sitting by her side. The woman was Eve Torres, the one who stayed close to her during her ambulance ride, and the man was her former boyfriend, Philip Brooks, or as most of the WWE Universe knew him, CM Punk.

"Jack?" Maria asked, looking straight at Punk, and calling him by his middle name, something she still continued to do even though they hadn't been dating for a couple of years now.

The handsome man from Chicago – the same city from which Maria hailed – brought his seat closer to his ex-girlfriend's bed and sat down beside her to her left. Eve subsequently brought her own chair over to Maria's right.

"Hello Maria." Punk gently brushed a few loose strands of red hair from Maria's forehead, and put a comforting hand on her arm. "How are you feeling?"

Instead of answering, Maria swallowed hard and fought back tears, while visions of Michelle's maniacal, hate-filled eyes flashed through her mind. She had a feeling of dread that the uncalled-for assault on her would be something she would remember as vividly as if it happened yesterday, twenty years from now.

"How long have I been out?" Maria whispered.

"Even after you lost consciousness the second time, you were still pretty restless, so the doctor gave you a mild sedative to help you relax," Eve explained. "You've been sleeping soundly for about twelve hours. Give or take."

_Only twelve hours?!_ Maria thought Eve was going to say twelve _days_, but _hours_? She could hardly contain her astonishment at the news. After the vicious attack on her, she never, for a moment, thought that she'd only be out for one night. She expected – or rather, she knew – she would lie in a coma for no less than a week. And that was the best-case scenario.

Maria apparently was never fully aware of how tough she really was. On the other hand, she had never before been attacked with such viciousness and brutality.

A couple of years ago, in 2006, she'd been forced to fight the Samoan colossus, Umaga, in a match which was made purely out of spite by a vengeful, cowardly, woman-hating Eric Bischoff. Maria was beat up pretty bad, but at the end of the night, she was really more frightened than badly hurt. She was helped out by a couple of referees and trainers, but hadn't needed to be _carried_ out, much less on a stretcher. Being at the receiving end of a few of Umaga's devastating finishers was terrifying and painful, but it was nothing compared to the mugging she suffered at the hands of her now former best friend, Michelle McCool. Not just because she was more methodical than Umaga, but because she made it personal.

She wasn't just attacking Maria's body; she was attacking her mind as well. The stomping, the kicking, the trash-talking, the malice burning in her eyes. Those were things that never simply switched on in someone's brain – which meant that their friendship, over the last several weeks had, in all likelihood, been a cruel lie.

Maria didn't think it possible, but her heart sank lower than ever as the realization came over her. Feigning a friendship and taking advantage of someone in such a manner, only to use it against them is the worst kind of falsehood. It is an action quite possibly more heinous and evil than murder, and the beasts who commit such disgusting crimes against humanity are among the world's most vile, despicable people.

It didn't seem possible. Even now, Maria couldn't conceive of it. Michelle was honestly far too sweet, far too lovable, and far too beautiful for it to have all been an act. There was just no way for anyone to feign it. Why then did Michelle seem so completely, utterly maleficent?

"Why am I not in a coma?" Maria had to ask. Not that she was complaining.

"Not even the doctor knows," Eve admitted, "he's as baffled as the rest of us. He said you're badly banged up, and you should take it easy for the next few weeks, but otherwise you're basically fine."

Maria's eyes widened as far as they could, and her jaw practically unhinged. She literally could not believe what she was hearing. To even say it sounded too good to be true was a gross understatement, but on that same note, she knew Eve would never lie to her.

"I was hit with a con-chair-to, Eve." Maria didn't want to sound like she was doubting her friend, but logic did not agree with what Eve was telling. "My brains were scrambled, I didn't know who you were, I could barely even remember my own name. Now, I know that you've always told me the truth. I thank you for that, and it almost pains me to have to ask, but this time I need to. Are you telling me the truth? Is that really what the doctor said?"

"It is," Punk spoke up for Eve, looking Maria in the eye. "You have two cracked ribs, there are bruises all over your body, and you'll probably feel dizzy from time to time for a little while. But otherwise, you're not seriously injured."

If Punk's mouth did not tell the truth, his eyes certainly did. Maria could hardly wrap her mind around the fact that despite receiving the most severe beating she ever took in her life, she was virtually unhurt; she'd be back in action in only a matter of weeks. She was just waiting for the other shoe to fall.

"Jack," Maria said abruptly, "I can not thank you enough for coming to see me, nor can I tell you how deeply I appreciate it, but I'm curious. Aren't you supposed to be on Raw, getting ready for your Intercontinental Title match? How were you able to get out here?"

Before answering her, Punk smiled and fondly kissed her forehead.

Too many people assumed too much about them; some thought that since they broke up, they didn't talk much any more; others said they were no longer on good terms. And some people spread rumors that they were secretly still dating. The _fact_ was that while they still loved each other, business forced them to put their relationship on hold, and they were content to interact as friends for the time being.

"I saw what happened on SmackDown," Punk explained, "and so did Stephanie." He was referring to the acting General Manager of Raw, Stephanie McMahon, the daughter of the WWE Chairman, Vince McMahon. "I asked her to postpone the match, so I could take a couple of days off to make sure you were okay, and she told me I could take as much time off as I needed for my friends."

"Aww, Jack, you're so sweet." Maria put her hands on the back of Punk's neck and pulled him closer so she could kiss him on the cheek. She remembered watching the December 8 episode of Raw, during which Punk vowed to win the Intercontinental Championship from William Regal before the end of the year. Maria found it very touching that he chose to delay the match – and forfeit the chance to win the title before January 1st – for a friend. As she let go of him, she turned to look Eve in her beautiful eyes.

"I'm sorry it's taken me this long to say so," Maria began, "but thank you so much, Eve, for what you did after..." Unable to bring herself to say the rest, she trailed off and shivered. It was then when she felt a sudden wave of drowsiness slowly come over her like syrup seeping through a sponge.

"You're welcome, Maria." Eve reached forward and lovingly touched Maria's face with her soft hand. "It was the least I could do. And I promise you, Maria, next week on SmackDown, I'm going to have a word with Michelle. On television."

"If, by television you mean interview, you're going to have to be dispassionate," Punk reminded her, and she nodded, knowing.

"Of course, I'm an interviewer," Eve said. "But Michelle is—was my friend, too. Unless she's suffered a bizarre case of amnesia, she still knows me. And if there's anything left of the sweet woman whom we and nearly everyone loved, she'll listen to me."

Maria took Eve's hand in hers, and looked desperately into her eyes. "I really hope you're right, Eve," she said. Her eyelids began to feel heavy. "If you guys don't mind, I think I want to go back to sleep."

"Go right ahead, Maria," Punk said, gently. "You get some rest, and you'll be out of here in a couple of days."

* * *

Maria awoke some time during the night, and this time all the lights were turned off. The blinds were drawn over the window, a faint pale orange glow from the street lights outside trickled in through a tiny space of clearance around the screen, thus creating a hollow square of dim orange illumination.

She didn't know what – if anything – woke her up, but quickly became aware that there was someone else in the room with her. The sound of hushed feminine breathing met her ears... it was Eve. She'd probably insisted on staying, and had now fallen asleep in her chair. God bless her. The lengths to which Eve Torres would go for a friend could stretch all the way to Saturn's rings.

Maria heard someone who, judging from the sound of his or her footfalls, was a huge, massive human being quietly approaching her room, and she decided to pretend to be asleep.

The door opened slowly, and the newcomer stepped inside. Maria couldn't help but hold her breath.

She heard Eve emit a faint moan, and then a small start. "How did you get here?" Eve whispered. To Maria's surprise, she didn't sound frightened. Merely, surprised. Almost as if she knew who the person was, but didn't expect to see here, especially at midnight.

A velvety masculine voice with the slightest trace of an accent Maria did not recognize hummed over the blanket of silence that lay over the room. "When you did not retire for the night, I contacted Philip Brooks who informed me of your location." The voice was beautiful. Powerful, yet so soft. Rather than break the silence, instead it seemed to almost _contribute_ to it. "Why do you tarry here, Eve Torres?"

"I'm sorry. I was staying with Maria, and I guess I fell asleep in my seat."

Maria slowly began to breathe again as she listened intently, now wide awake.

"You must rest," the voice said.

"I am resting." Eve didn't sound very convincing. Sitting up all night in even the most comfortable of chairs is nearly never restful.

"I believe you know what it is to which I am referring." The voice was unwavering, but gentle. "I cannot train you if you are unable to keep your eyes open during our sessions."

Train? Sessions? _Our_ sessions? Maria now felt the most awake she ever had since before Michelle's attack on her. She'd be lucky if she slept another wink this night. Who was this man, and why hadn't Eve told her about him? More importantly, how _long_ had she known him? Did she plan on revealing her secret in time?

"You cannot help your friend by attempting to remain conscious during the night. She will regain her strength on her own. Come, Eve Torres. You must rest."

Maria heard Eve yawn, and as she exhaled, Maria could tell by the sound, that she was smiling. This was apparently not the first time the mystery man was right about something, and would not likely be the last.

Maria now badly wanted to see who this person was, but she dared not move or open her eyes. She knew half of Eve's secret, and there was no doubt in her mind that there would be other opportunities to ask her about it.

Still, it sent chills down her spine, knowing all that separated her from this person were her closed eyelids. She could snap them open right now.

"You win... again," Eve whispered. "But you'd better drive me to the hotel, or else I might get myself killed."

"Very well."

The sound of Eve standing up met Maria's ears, and she listened as the door to her room opened and the two figures stepped out, slowly latching the doorknob. Then, with her eyelids still closed firmly, she listened to the sound of their footsteps recede down the hall, gradually growing fainter, and fainter, until silence reigned once again.

Maria opened her eyes and looked about her room. It was eerily empty, with no evidence that anyone had been there, save for a lonely looking chair at the foot of her bed.

She tried to think of possibilities as to who that man was, but it was beyond anything she could imagine. The only thing she knew for certain was that she'd never met the man in her life. Why then, did Eve never introduce him to her? In the time that they'd known each other, not once did Eve give the slightest indication that she was in what appeared to be an intergender mentor/apprentice relationship, something which, these days, is so unbelievably rare, Maria figured she would have at the very least gotten some sort of clue that there was someone else.

_Or maybe, just maybe_, Maria thought as she lay back, deep in thought, _it was only a dream_.

* * *

**Sorry that was so short compared to the first chapter. Fear not! This just means the next part will be out sooner. Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!  
**


	3. Knife Through the Heart

Very few perks came with sitting at home, waiting for the body to regenerate itself back to the point where it could safely resume in-ring activities without the fear of re-injury or hurting an already tweaked body part. The most frustrating thing is feeling like you could take on the world, but knowing you have to take it real easy for the next—SEVEN DAYS or so. On the other hand, seven days was nothing compared to seven weeks. Or seven months. Only just recently on Monday Night Raw, Dave Batista was brutally attacked by Randy Orton, who left him with a dislocated knee and a concussion, sidelining him indefinitely. Spending only a week on the shelf was so insignificant, some wrestlers might find it a little appealing. It would make for great vacation time...

Maria winced when she inhaled too deeply – her gauze-wrapped ribs reminding her that she was about half a mile to halfway to 100%. Okay, so maybe she didn't feel like she could quite take on the world, but it wouldn't be the first time someone wrestled with cracked ribs. Shawn Michaels did at the Great American Bash, back in July. Of course, he got absolutely demolished in that match, and was out of action for nearly two months as a result. Some even said that he wouldn't come back from that, but that's a recollection for another day.

There was no way Maria was going to let herself be out of action for that long. Not after surviving the assault on her, a mere three days ago. Aside from occasional dizziness and periodic headaches, the only part of her that was hurting were her injured ribs, and that was it.

That, however, was only as far as her body was concerned. If her mind were her body, she would be in a coma. Maria still couldn't believe what Michelle McCool did to her, both physically and mentally. Even _if_ Michelle owned up to her mistake and apologized for it – were that to happen, Maria would welcome her back with open arms – nothing would ever be the same again. But that's how life is sometimes. Things change. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for worse, things change.

Maria reached over and picked up her cell phone which was sitting on a coffee table next to the couch she was sitting on, and unplugged it from its charger.

She dialed her younger sister Janny's cell number, and held the phone to her ear. The line rang a couple of times before, to her surprise, someone – presumably her sister – on the other end picked up.

"Hello?" It _was_ Janny. There was no mistaking her young, cheery voice.

Maria was hoping to at least leave a message, in the 50% chance that her sister would not pick up. She was only too happy to talk to her live.

"Hi, Janny! It's Maria!"

A delighted gasp followed by a girlish giggle emanated from Maria's little sister at the other end of the line.

"Yay!" Janny could hardly contain her excitement, and in that instant, Maria realized that she didn't call as often as she should. And now she especially wished she were calling under better circumstances.

"Hey, what up, girl?" Maria asked in a playful voice. Might as well exchange a few friendly words before dropping the bomb on her.

"Oh my gosh, I'm doing great!" Janny would always sound like she still was sixteen years old whenever she got really animated.

"How's the baby?" Maria nudged. Her sister was happily married – to a nice young guy named Bobby – and had been so for about a year and a half. She was expecting, having gotten pregnant only a few months ago.

"If my baby is as good outside of me as it's been inside me, he or she will most definitely be the best child a mommy could ask for!"

"Ah, so you don't know which sex the baby is just yet?"

"No, but Bobby and I are both hoping for a boy. I've always wanted a little boy!"

"But you'll take a girl, won't you?" Maria's grin practically went through the phone line and spread to her sister.

"Oh of course!" Janny laughed. "Either gender is a blessing!"

"Just making sure!" Maria giggled.

"So how are you doing, big sis?" Janny asked after the sisters shared a laugh.

The smile disappeared from Maria's face, and she let out a deep breath. "That's actually what I was calling about," she said, sober. "I'm afraid I'm not doing very well right now."

"Oh dear. Are you ill?" Janny – who rarely watched WWE TV – was completely oblivious. Maria didn't want to have to drop this bomb on her, but she had to. It was better she told her, rather than risk her sister finding out for herself.

"Physically, I'm fine. Considering."

"Considering? What's wrong, Maria?"

"I'm getting to it, just let me finish." Maria spoke firmly, but gently. "Now, you remember Michelle McCool, don't you?"

Janny's face brightening could practically be heard over the phone. "Of course I remember her, she's the sweetest girl in the world! I mean, besides you, of course."

Maria smiled at her sister's last comment, in spite of her sobriety. Her smile turned bittersweet, as she remembered the last time Michelle and her sister interacted in person. June 30, 2008. It was a girls' night out and she brought Janny along, as she, Michelle, Eve Torres, and Kara Drew – or Cherry, the name by which people knew her – went binge-shopping in New York City. In fact, Michelle was the one who'd arranged the whole thing, and it was, by far, the most fun Janny ever had on a shopping spree. She and Michelle were practically like sisters themselves; heck, back then, nobody ever said a bad thing about Michelle. Everyone loved her, and she loved everyone right back.

"Well, I'm afraid I have some sad news about Michelle." As much as Maria didn't want to have to tell her sister about it, she knew it was better Janny found out from her – instead of Michelle herself. She didn't know what she would do if that happened, didn't even want to think about it.

"What happened?" Janny sounded dismayed, obviously fearing the worst. "Is she all right?"

Maria sighed. "Michelle is healthy. But she's changed."

"How?" Janny asked, but Maria could tell from the tone of her voice that she already knew the answer. For the worse.

"Three nights ago, on SmackDown, I was the special guest referee in a Divas' title match involving Michelle. She lost the match, and her title. After it was all said and done, she turned and attacked me, both viciously and personally. I spent the next two nights in a hospital, and I'll be out of action for at least a week."

Nothing emanated forth from the other side of the line but a stunned, shocked silence. Maria couldn't even hear Janny breathing; she was most likely sitting wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and breathless, thunderstruck by her older sister's grisly revelation.

Maria couldn't imagine how impossible it must have been for Janny to wrap her mind around it. Heck, SmackDown was three days ago, and she still couldn't believe that Michelle put her in the hospital over something so trivial – in comparison to friendship – as a title match.

"No," Janny, beyond horrified, scarcely dared to breathe. "Not Michelle. She couldn't..."

"I've been saying that for three days now," Maria said gently. "And I wish more than anything else in the world it was only a terrible nightmare. But it was real. Michelle assaulted me out of hatred, and tried to seriously injure me."

"What are you going to do?" Janny whispered, about to cry.

"Well, Eve is still my friend," Maria replied after taking a deep breath, "I guess there's just two of us now. As to what I plan to do, I'm going to do what anyone else would; I'll keep moving. I'm not going to let what Michelle did to me ruin my life or anyone else's. I may be down, but I'm not out, so don't worry about me, Janny. You're going to be a mommy soon, so you have enough on your plate already."

Janny was fighting to hold back tears. She said nothing, but her breaths were ragged and shaky, and came through the phone line to her sister's ear.

"Oh, don't cry," Maria said in a comforting voice, as her sister wept softly. "It'll be okay. I'll be okay."

"But what about Michelle?" Janny sobbed. "She put you in the hospital. She's one of the sweetest people alive, and she put you in the hospital." To say that she was heartbroken would be an understatement. Janny was devastated beyond one's ability to comprehend.

Maria didn't know what to say at this point. Were this conversation face to face, this would be where she simply offered her sister her shoulder to cry on. The point where words were no longer of any use, and the only thing left to do was to just hug and cry.

"Janny," said Maria, "everything will be all right. If not sooner, it will be later. I don't know what's gotten into Michelle, but I'm going to do everything I can to get it out of her."

Maria waited a beat.

"So will you be all right?" she asked gently.

Janny paused before answering. "Yes," she said. "I'll be all right. I have Bobby to keep me company."

"Okay, good." Maria laughed in spite of the circumstances. "Well, I have to go now."

"Bye, Maria."

"Bye, Janny. I'll see you soon."

* * *

_Two days later..._

Eve was where Maria expected to find her. However she was not doing what Maria expected to find her doing. Regardless of the fact that Eve was not a wrestler, she was required to stay physically fit in order to be more presentable on TV. Also because it's just plain good to stay fit.

With her feet propped on a weight bench, Eve lowered herself down until her chin was practically touching the padded floor, and exhaled through clenched teeth as she pushed her entire body up once again.

"...twenty-eight ...twenty-nine," she grunted, lowered herself down, and lifted herself up for what appeared to be the last time. "...thirty!"

"That's a pretty vigorous workout for a backstage interviewer!" Maria laughed as she approached her panting, sweat-covered friend.

"What, this?" Eve asked innocently, and quickly wiped her face with a towel. "It's just a couple of push-ups. You should see me in MMA class when I beat up all the boys!"

Maria giggled. "You're right, I should!"

Eve walked over to a nearby water dispenser and took a couple drinks. "So what brings you here?" she asked, crushing the now empty cone-shaped paper cup in her hand and tossing it into a nearby wastebasket.

Maria's face took on a more serious tone, and she hesitated before answering.

"I wanted to ask you something," she said slowly, almost nervously.

"Oh? What's that?"

Maria bit her lip, still hesitant. She found herself wanting to just let it go all of a sudden and apologize to her friend for bothering her. _Maybe it _was _only a dream_, she thought. _But maybe it wasn't_. Curiosity had long since given way to borderlined obsession, and she was at the point where she had to know, one way or another.

"The other night, in the hospital, I heard you talking to someone." Maria looked Eve in the eye as she spoke. From the look of astonishment in her beautiful eyes, this clearly was the last thing Eve expected to hear. "I don't mean to come off as harsh, but I need to know, who is he? Were you planning on introducing him? And more importantly, why did you even keep him a secret in the first place?"

Eve broke eye contact with her friend and looked down.

"My feelings aren't hurt," Maria clarified, "I'd just like to know."

"I was planning on introducing him to you," Eve said after a long silence, "and I still do. I kept him secret because I chose to; there'd be no harm in that, because you'd be meeting him anyway."

Maria nodded slowly, understanding. "But who is he?"

Eve took a deep breath and looked Maria in the eye once again. "Tell you what, Maria. How about you wait just a couple more days, and then I'll introduce you to him Wednesday morning after the SmackDown tapings on Tuesday night? Is that okay?"

A couple more days. After wondering who that mysterious figure could have been for three days, waiting the rest of the week out did not sound appealing to Maria. She really wanted to know now; she'd spent a lot of time building the nerve to ask, and she wanted to know now. But what she didn't want was to press the issue, especially not with Eve. Time and time again, she proved to be faithful to her word, and Maria trusted that she would indeed keep her promise.

"All right," Maria said finally. "I'll wait until Wednesday."

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, the former WWE Divas Champion, Michelle McCool." Eve felt strange standing not four feet from Michelle as she began her interview, backstage on SmackDown. It was almost surreal; Michelle's face – nearly always happy and full of life up until last week – was virtually unreadable now. Her smile was gone, the light in her eyes had long since died out, her body language was unrecognizable; she seemed withdrawn and solitary.

Eve had heard of unnerving transformations in the past – Chris Jericho came to mind – but this was completely out of the ordinary. The Michelle McCool standing before her, despite having the same body, bore no resemblance of any kind to the woman who was her friend. It was all the more disturbing in that she changed with such frightening rapidity; in a matter of minutes she became monster-like, as if she were possessed.

Anyone who didn't know Michelle would never be able to guess, just by looking at her now, that she was a loving friend who was loved by many, no more than a week ago.

She stood there. Silent.

"Michelle, last week on SmackDown, you not only lost your championship, but you also lost your cool." It was quite possibly the biggest understatement Eve had ever heard in her lifetime; the irony that it was coming from her own mouth was bitter.

The television screen behind them showed graphic footage of the unprovoked, vicious attack on Maria at the hands of Michelle, from the previous edition of SmackDown.

The broadcast crew had apparently gotten the wonderful idea to add dramatic music, visual effects, and edit the footage to make it look even more sickening and brutal than it already was. Now why did they need to do that? Wasn't the raw footage distressing enough to be forced to watch? The tears streaked all over Maria's face, and the sight of her unconscious heap lying broken, battered, and bruised in the middle of the ring was something Eve never wanted to see again, let alone in the form of one of WWE's dramatized recaps. Of course, it was entirely possible that Eve was letting her personal feelings cloud her judgment, but she nonetheless found something wrong with the sensationalism of an innocent girl's suffering inflicted upon her by her best friend.

Eve closed her eyes and turned away from the screen, unable to watch any longer.

After what seemed like ten minutes, the recap finally ended and the cameras were on the interviewer and interviewee once again.

If Michelle had any reaction to what was just shown on the screen, she did not show it. She remained silent, stoic, standing with a cold, vacant, cyborg-like stare in her eyes.

Eve nervously brought the microphone to her lips, "Michelle, all week the WWE Universe has been asking one question regarding the events following that match." Eve wanted to add, "myself included," right after the words 'WWE Universe,' but thought better of it. "Why, Michelle? I, we, everyone thought you and Maria were best friends. What happened?"

Michelle turned to face her at a mechanically slow pace, her face retaining the same blank, indecipherable gaze. She blinked once as Eve held the microphone for her, and spoke with quiet intensity.

"You know something, Eve? I've been wondering the exact same thing." It barely even sounded like the Michelle Eve knew. "All these years I thought Maria was my friend, and come to think of it, I thought you and I were friends, Eve. Then one night, Maria decides to take away something that happens to be very important to me, and boom, suddenly it's all about her. Maria this, Maria that, Maria, Maria, Maria. Well, let me ask _you_ something, Eve. What about _me_? What about _my_ life, what about Michelle? You know that Maria's been screwing up everything for me the past couple of months. I was willing to let it all go provided Maria didn't screw up my title match. I was willing to forget the fact that she cost both of us a tag team match on SmackDown because a big dumb retard with a teddy bear was a more pressing issue than me needing my friend to help me out of a tight spot. Out of the kindness of my heart, I was willing to forget the fact that my team lost at Survivor Series because of Maria's clumsiness. I was willing to forget the fact that she beat me with a handful of _my tights_, just a few weeks later. All that could have been behind us if she'd done something right, _for a change_. Apparently it wasn't enough that the last couple of months have been rough on me thanks to her, oh no, she has to close the year of 2008 by costing me my Divas Championship to a blonde-headed skank who didn't even deserve a shot in the first place.

"I say first there's disrespect, and then there's jealousy, and given the way Maria has been making my life miserable, I'd have to say she's rank with jealousy. And I don't associate myself with envious, catty women who try to run down their friends just to make up for their own shortcomings."

The person standing in front of Eve bore an uncanny resemblance to Michelle McCool, but based on the words coming out of her mouth, this doppelganger was a complete stranger.

Eve brought the microphone back to her own lips, and tried to interject. Before she could speak, however, Michelle's hand shot over like lightening and grabbed Eve's hand holding the mic in a viselike grip, and slowly, deliberately, angrily, pulled the mic, along with Eve's hand, back towards her.

"I was not done talking, Eve, don't interrupt me," Michelle said coldly. "As I was saying, Maria got what was coming to her. As far as I'm concerned, she deserved it."

"What if you're wrong?" Eve asked, the instant Michelle released her.

"What if it's any of your business?" Michelle shot back.

"It's my business because Maria is my friend too," Eve desperately tried to reason with the creature that stood before her. There had to be something left the lovely woman everyone knew and loved. "I know there's still a part of you that knows Maria's friendship with you means the world to her. I know she'll be willing to let bygones be bygones. All you have to do to fix this is to apologize to her."

Michelle looked incredulous. "You mean, in order to mend all this, _I_ have to apologize to _her_?"

A small part of Eve wanted to reply 'That's what I just said,' but that would be like trying to put out a fire with kerosene. Instead, she looked imploringly into Michelle's eyes and simply said, "Yes."

Michelle paused, and stared at Eve as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Why don't you," she said, as she started to walk away, "stick to what you do best?"

* * *

Eve spent the majority of the rest of the evening backstage, watching the episode on a television monitor. She came close to laughing for the first time in days when Edge, and Vickie Guerrero were freaking out about alleged naked pictures of the SmackDown General Manager being sold on eBay; a saga which was escalating into a fiasco - and an entertaining one at that. Somehow, Eve couldn't shake the feeling that Triple H was behind the whole thing. Always one for playing mind games, that Triple H, especially when the other person's mind is so easy to get inside; Vickie Guerrero was never the most secure individual on the planet, and it astonished everyone to no end as to why she still had a job. Sure, she acted like she was on top of the world when she abused her power - which was most, if not all, of the time - and pushed people's buttons, but when people started putting a few over on her, she'd transform into a sniveling, cringing, rotund little crybaby in a matter of minutes.

The woman had authority, but no power whatsoever.

Anyway...

The rest of the night saw Brian Kendrick and Ezekiel Jackson defeat Jesse and Festus in a routine tag team match, the beastly Vladimir Kozlov eat Hurricane Helms for lunch in a very short, one-sided match, and commentators Jim Ross and Tazz hype the upcoming Royal Rumble pay-per-view event.

Later in the night, Michelle McCool's music hit and Eve sat bolt upright on the couch and leaned forward to look intently at the TV screen. Her curiosity was piqued, as there was no Divas bout scheduled for tonight, yet Michelle apparently was approaching the ring.

Eve quickly noticed, however, that Michelle was not dressed to compete; she wore a tight glittery-gold T-shirt, a pair of hip-hugger blue jeans, and leather boots – the same outfit she had on during her interview.

_Maybe she has something to say to me_, Eve pondered, _the only question is, after that interview with her, do I really want to hear it?_

Michelle had taken a microphone from a ringside technician, confirming Eve's first hypothesis. The look on Michelle's face had changed yet again, and Eve dared to think for the better. Her eyes, no longer cold, were now downcast, and she carried herself in a manner consistent with similar feelings of regret. As though she'd spent time alone, crying, and had only recently gathered the emotional strength to show herself in public once again.

She stood in the ring, her head down, and held the microphone to her lips, "Earlier tonight I..." She paused, and took a deep breath. Michelle spoke quietly, barely enough to be heard clearly, in a subdued tone of voice. "Earlier tonight a friend brought something to my attention. She tried to tell me something important and I pushed her away. There are two reasons why that was wrong. One, Eve is my friend. Two, I've had a week to think about what I've done to Maria." She then turned to look straight into the camera. "Eve, I know you're watching this. I just want you to know that you're right. You were right all along, I _do_ owe Maria an apology. It's because of me that she can't be here tonight, I don't know where she is right now, or where she's at, but I need her to know that I am so... very very sorry." Her voice faltered. "I pray she will be able to forgive me, because I may never forgive myself. What I did to her was inexcusable, and some might even feel that it was unforgivable. If that's the case with anyone here now, I respect your opinion.

"Maria," Michelle said, her eyes moistening, "I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to ensure that this will never happen again. If it does, then it is your prerogative to end our friendship, and I will leave SmackDown and stay away for as long as it takes to bring back my usual cheerful self. Get well soon, Maria. I'll say a prayer for you tonight."

Over the past week, Eve had been flabbergasted so many times, it was beginning to become practically routine. The sting of it was, not one of those surprises were good ones – until now. Eve was astonished, and for the first time in seven days, the feeling filled her with joy, but most of all, overwhelming relief. Michelle's eyes were speaking louder than her mouth was, and Eve knew her more than well enough to know for sure when she was being sincere.

"One more thing," Michelle continued. "There's someone else I hurt, who I'd like to apologize to." Again, she looked straight in the camera. "Eve, would you please join me in the ring? I want to say this to your face. Please, come out here."

Eve didn't even bother turning off the TV, as she virtually bolted from the room and made her way towards the entrance curtain.

* * *

There was no music playing over the sound system as Eve slowly approached Michelle who was still standing in the ring, her body language the same as before. Eve began to cautiously climb the ring steps, while looking Michelle directly in her eyes, and joined her in the middle of the ring.

Michelle hesitated before bringing the microphone to her lips, and stared into Eve's eyes. "You know, Eve," she began, speaking quietly, "I feel beyond horrible about the way I treated you earlier. I feel beyond guilty. It was inexcusable; after seven days to myself I should not have taken my anger out on you like that. You're my friend. Maria is my friend. And I can't even begin to describe how awful I feel about last week."

Michelle, like everyone else, had personal flaws, this much Eve knew. No one is perfect. Everyone has the occasional mood swing. Michelle had always been a shining example of humanity; a loving, caring, giving woman who lived life to the fullest. Time and time again she would place the needs of others before her own. So selfless was she that it sometimes left her drained, and in a somewhat depressed state of mind. Those instances were few and far inbetween, but Eve remembered every long road trip or plane ride during which Michelle was either irritable and volatile, and prone to outbursts, or low-spirited and disconsolate, and frequently cried to herself. Aside from, on occasion, offering her a shoulder to lean on, Eve, as well as most other friends of Michelle, would generally give her as much alone time as they could. Nearly never did she blow up in someone's face, but the few times when she did she always owned up and apologized at a later time.

Of course, this particular incident was far beyond even the worst days of Michelle's life. She'd blown up in people's faces before, very occasionally, and one time she even shoved a person with enough force to knock him off his feet. Granted, that was a special case – a disrespectful loud-mouthed fan who was way out of line after a SmackDown live event – but it was the only time she'd ever put her hands on someone in a noncompetitive context. Never before had she erupted into a rage, and physically and emotionally attacked someone, let alone laid so much as a finger on her best friend.

But her eyes were the same.

Like every other member of the human race, there were things Michelle had done in her life that she sorely regretted, some of which directly affected her friends. Every time, she would apologize from the bottom of her heart, and every time, her eyes would speak louder than her words. _I am sorry. I'm not a perfect person, but that is no excuse because you are one of my best friends in the entire world. I feel terrible that I hurt you. I am so sorry. Please forgive me._

Her eyes were the same now, as they'd been before.

"Last week, I admit, I was angry about losing my title," Michelle continued, "but I shouldn't have taken it out on Maria, who was only doing her job. She didn't ask to be the referee, but she was doing the best she could. Things happen in the heat of the moment, and you sometimes forget that there are millions of people watching. I'll be the first to admit that I completely lost it; I snapped, I went berserk. But I chose to focus my anger on Maria, and there's no excuse for that." She waited a beat, and looked down.

"Eve," she said. "It goes without saying that you and especially Maria are well within your rights to terminate our friendship. We can go our separate ways if you want. I'll understand. But I need you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for last week, and I'm sorry for earlier tonight. If I could take it all back, I would, but I can't, and I'm sorry. Will you please forgive me?" There was a noticeable tremor in her voice, and it was clear that she was struggling to speak without crying.

"Of course," was all Eve needed to say. She offered Michelle her opens arms, and the two women embraced as the audience applauded. Eve felt like the weight of the world had just been taken off her shoulders at that very moment.

"Eve?" Michelle asked in a tearful voice. "Is Maria okay? Please tell me she's all right."

Eve held her closer, and spoke soothingly. "Maria is fine. She spent two nights in a hospital, but she wasn't seriously injured, so she's at home resting."

"Oh thank God," Michelle sighed in relief. "Can I see her after we're done here? I mean, do you think she'll want to see me?"

"I'm sure she will," Eve reassured her. "Let's go backstage, and I'll call her on my phone so you can talk to her, okay?"

"Thank you, Eve."

"You're welcome, Michelle."

Eve relinquished her embrace, and turned and exited the ring, while smiling and waving to the fans. The way she felt while she descended the ring steps and greeted the fans at ringside was indescribable. Tonight was far beyond anything she dared to hope, or even dream. Tears of relief began to blur her vision as she continued to—something hard violently connected between her shoulder blades and sent her flying forward, crashing ribs-first into the ringside barrier.

Having gotten the wind knocked out of her, Eve gasped for breath, and time slowed so far down it was almost at a complete stop. Despite the fact that Eve knew it couldn't be possible after what just occurred, there couldn't be any doubt; Michelle had attacked her. The whole thing was a ruse, a trick. A trap. Every word Michelle spoke in the ring tonight, the apology, the hug, and every tear she shed was a lie.

Eve felt a wave of horror come with the sinking realization that she was nothing more than Michelle's next target. It was all she'd been from the beginning. She'd been convinced to lower her guard, and then lured out to the ring, believing in earnest that she had nothing to fear... it was like in the deep ocean, when an angler fish lures in its prey. A beautiful, mesmerizing light that appears to be completely harmless, which only leads to a swift, however violent demise. That was what would happen in nature.

But what was happening now was anything but natural, and Eve's initial reaction of dread quickly gave way to despair, and she openly sobbed as the nightmarish onslaught began.

She felt herself being pulled up and subsequently dragged across the floor by the hair towards the ramp area. Michelle wound up for a kick to her face, and Eve managed cover her face with her hands before the boot connected. The blow was so vicious, though, that Eve's wrists were bruised, as they were crushed against her face.

Eve was thrown against the barrier once again, although this time, it was along the ramp – this barrier had no padding. The sound of flesh thudding against steel was sickening; even more so that it was her own. And the pain was indescribable. She didn't even have time to react before Michelle yanked her back up, and rammed her shoulder-first against the barrier on the other side of the ramp, her head bouncing off as well.

_This must have been exactly how Maria felt,_ Eve thought while Michelle continued to pummel her mercilessly. _How does one react when one's best friend turns into a monster? Quite simply, there is no way to react. The feeling is paralyzing; you just lie there as you're being beaten to a bloody pulp by __a person who loved you. Unable to move because it's not worth it; your whole world has been turned __upside down. It's like dying, but without transcending to the afterlife. You're just stuck there. Immobile. Helpless._

Michelle shoved four claw-like fingers into Eve's mouth and grabbed her by the cheek, with her fingers inside of her mouth, and her thumb on the outside. She suddenly and violently tightened her grip, and began beating Eve's face with her free hand.

Michelle's long fingernails felt razor sharp inside Eve's mouth, raking and tearing the inside of her cheek, and she screamed in agony as blow after blow left bruise after bruise on her face.

The look in Michelle's eyes was primal. Hers was the face of a rabid, murderous animal inhabiting the body of a beautiful woman; her teeth were clenched and bared, she frothed at the mouth, and she snarled with rage.

Eve was about to black out, when Michelle stopped beating at her face, and released her clawlike grip on the inside of her cheek. The crazed woman stood up and stared contemptuously down at her, still panting like a beast.

"No more," Eve barely managed to rasp, feebly holding up her hands in a defensive position. There were countless other things she wanted to say, like screaming at her asking how she could do this. How she could throw away something as precious as friendship over something as mundane as a leather belt. There were so many things Eve wanted to say to Michelle, but all she had the strength to say now was a simple, desperate, "no more, please. I beg you."

"You think I care?!" Michelle screamed, and delivered a vicious stomp to the side of Eve's knee. "You think I care what happened to Maria?!" She connected another stomp to Eve's anatomy, this time to her stomach, the impact of which drove every breath of air out of her lungs once again.

Cruel stomps and kicks rained down on every unprotected part of Eve's body, and she cried, even while she gasped desperately for air.

"Why don't you _mind_—your _own_—_business_?!" Michelle punctuated each emphasis with a punt to Eve's trembling body, which was curled into a fetal position. "Oh no you don't," she snarled, grabbing Eve by the hair and dragging her all the way to her feet like a rag doll. "I am not finished with you!" With that, she rammed Eve kidney-first into the ring apron, took a few steps back, wound up, and kicked her in the face. Eve, barely conscious, didn't even react. She just hung there, limp. Sobbing hopelessly.

She could hardly even register Michelle tucking her head between Michelle's legs, and lifting her up by the stomach until she was in a seated position, with her own legs draped over Michelle's shoulders. For a few seconds, Michelle held her there, and then with a final burst of insane power, slammed her down, spine and back-of-the-skull first onto the floor surrounding the ring.

The pavement was padded, but it was very thin padding, and offered very little protection. Eve felt like she'd been thrown off the roof of a building. Never before in her life had she taken such a brutal, hate-fueled beating. She'd gotten knocked around plenty of times in early mixed martial arts classes, and even sported a few bruises. In her world, if you weren't willing to feel a little pain, you weren't going to go anywhere in life.

But nothing could have prepared her for this. It was like being murdered, but without actually dying.

As her vision began to fade, Eve felt Michelle grab a handful of her hair, and force her to look her in the eye. The corners of Michelle's mouth curled into a cruel smile.

"Had you going there, didn't I?" she sneered with a maniacal look in her eyes, and then spat in Eve's face.

Eve's heart shattered in that instant, and she realized that Michelle had truly gone mad.

The last thing Eve remembered before blacking out was Michelle standing up and grinding the sole of her boot against Eve's face, and storming remorselessly out of the arena.

* * *

_**First of all, I would like to apologize to everyone for TAKING SO DARN LONG! This was a very difficult chapter to write - I'm not fully satisfied with a couple scenes, plus there are several words which I use ENTIRELY too much, so constructive criticism is welcomed; as long as you give me something to work with - plus there was a period when the computer I use to write was in a coma, and writer's block is practically a constant with me. I know what I want to say, I just don't know how, and it ends up sitting there for a few days. Sometimes weeks.**_

So that's why it's taken so long. Moving along.

Yes, this is 100% fiction. Maria _does_ have a younger sister named Janny, but as far as I know she is not married, nor is she pregnant.

The telephone conversation scene was the one that gave me the most difficulty, and was the least satisfying to me (but if you all enjoyed it, then it's all good!). It was a big part of the reason chapter 3 took so long to complete.

In closing, thanks for your patience and thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


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